


I'll see you after the detour

by exbex



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Multi, omgcpwomenfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 21:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11022339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex
Summary: Download the zine: https://omgcpwomen.tumblr.com/post/161138167722/click-here-to-download-the-women-of-check-pleaseThank you to queerxtonks for the beta.





	I'll see you after the detour

**Author's Note:**

> Download the zine: https://omgcpwomen.tumblr.com/post/161138167722/click-here-to-download-the-women-of-check-please
> 
> Thank you to queerxtonks for the beta.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

George doesn’t look up from the glass of wine she’s staring into. _No,_ she thinks. _No, because you’ve been called up and tomorrow you have to travel 600 miles and if I tell you that I’ve been thinking about quitting hockey, you’re going to tell me no. You’re going to give me that determined look you get, and you’re going to tell me not to give up. And then I’m going to ask what’s the point, because I’ll never really get to go as far as I really am capable of, all because I don’t have a Y chromosome, and then you’re going to tell me that it’s all the more reason I should prove myself, and then our amicable breakup isn’t going to be so amicable._

_Either that, or you’re going to tell me I should do it if I really want to, because I have a degree and I can work anywhere, because I’m so smart, and then we could be together._

_And I really don’t know which one would be worse._

“No,” she finally replies. And if her eyes are shining and wet when she looks up, he doesn’t mention it, just takes her hand in his and gives it a squeeze.

She takes him to bed one last time that night, wraps her legs around him and listens to him gasp her name into her ear. She doesn’t say his name as he strokes her clit and her body shudders through an orgasm, but she doesn’t muffle her cries either.

**

He sends her a card after she wins her medal. _You did good,_ it says. She can picture his smile, the look of pride in his eyes, and it doesn’t hurt.

**

Everyone tells her what a great coach she’d make, so she promptly decides to go into management instead. She never thought she’d be so interested in the business side of hockey, but suddenly there’s so much potential satisfaction in a metaphorical game of chess.

**

She’s hired as AGM in the same week that Randall gets traded. She’s not sure what she expects from him the first time they “meet”; surprise, or a twitch at the corners of his mouth that says that he’s trying not to smile.

It’s neither, of course. Just a nice, professional handshake and a warm greeting.

**

“You’re good at this.”

He says it quietly, without hesitation. It’s their first meeting together as player and AGM, and a part of Georgia wants to roll her eyes and say “Of course I am. I had to get a degree because there’s nowhere for me to earn a real living playing hockey.” And it occurs to her that there’s no way for him to say the right thing, because the right thing doesn’t exist.

“The Falconers are lucky to have you,” he continues, consequently making a liar out of her.

“You’re an asset to this team as well,” she replies. It’s easy to say, and she knows that he knows that she’s sincere. Because she is good at her job. And she loves it, loves the way she can lose herself in building a team, loves the way she gets lost in a game of hockey rather than her own head. 

It’s not so different, then, from playing. “You just have to learn a different dance sometimes,” Carmen likes to say. George fired back once, “The ‘you’ almost always being female.” But Carmen was always philosophical. “Imagine living your entire life,” she said as she carefully stirred sugar and milk into her coffee, “without facing forks in the road, without that challenge. Imagine the stagnation.” In a way, it feels like a new version of the same old verse about taking the road less traveled, a sweeter version of the thing people like to say to poor kids “you’ll appreciate it more because you had to work for it.” And if it had come from someone else, someone who hadn’t jumped through every single one of the hoops, George would have fought against conceding the argument. Instead she’d just sighed as she wrapped her arms around Carmen’s waist and kissed her softly. “How’d I get so lucky?” she’d murmured.

“No luck,” Carmen had said. “I know how to pick ‘em.”

“Me too,” George had replied before stealing Carmen’s coffee, taking a sip, and surprising herself at the way she didn’t grimace at the sweetness.

She feels comfortable enough to chirp Randall. “Finally wearing a face shield I see. Figure out you’re not invincible?” It’s an old argument   
between them, but this time there’s no bite. 

His green is sheepish. “My wife is pretty persuasive. Does her research, doesn’t think much of stupid excuses.”

“Smart woman. Sounds like she’s out of your league.”

“I always go for women out of my league.” 

“Me too,” she says.

Randall just grins. “Nice to see you don’t settle anymore.”

George laughs, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Thirdy.”

**

It’s Jack Zimmermann who actually threatens to disrupt her image. 

Recruiting the Prodigal Son of hockey is going to make her look like she has a soft spot, but George likes him. He’s talented, hard-working, and knows it, but there’s no shred of entitlement in him. He’s a shining, public example of imperfection, and he’s going to have to fight twice as hard to prove himself. It doesn’t take long at all to see that he knows this about himself, that he’s nursing a steely resolve.

Really, it’s almost like looking in a mirror.


End file.
